


Hunger

by sainnis



Series: Fellowes Mews [11]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainnis/pseuds/sainnis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I've always wanted to write some early Ed and Al in the Fellowes Mews verse, so consider this a prologue of sorts. This is my take on what happened to our favorite brothers after Episode 51 of the original anime. </p>
<p>This is the eleventh story in the Fellowes Mews series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nyagosstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/gifts).



> This fic was written as a gift for nyagosstar, because she gives me great prompts and always reminds me why writing is fun when I forget.

A stifled cry from the other side of the room startled Ed awake. He blinked in the darkness, trying to recall where he was. Not Central. Not the hospital. He remembered. Hughes.

Climbing out of bed, Ed winced as he moved slowly across the carpet to the bed opposite his, his muscles tight with pain. “Al.”

Al didn’t respond, but as Ed sat on the edge of the bed, he could hear his brother’s ragged breathing. He reached out to touch Al’s face, and found his forehead damp with sweat. “Hey. You’re okay.”

“I know.” Al’s voice still sounded strange in Ed’s ears; the tinny echo was gone, replaced by a teen’s tenor. “It was just a nightmare.”

Ed pulled his brother close, flinching inwardly as he felt the sharp bones of Al’s shoulder blades, the knobs of his spine just beneath the skin. Al, who had for so long been this enormous presence beside him, seemed suddenly so frail, despite the fact that somehow even inside the Gate Al managed to get taller than Ed ever would. 

“I’m sorry to wake you.” Al was shaking, but whether with the aftershock of his dreams or the bedroom’s chill, Ed didn’t know. It still didn’t seem real that he could feel the warmth of Al’s body, the beat of his heart. 

“Don’t apologize. I’m not the insomniac in the family, remember?” Ed released Al, pulling his blankets back up around him to ward off the cold. 

“You should go back to sleep. You’re going to break your stitches again if you keep moving around.” 

Ed scoffed. “It was only a few. The doctors overreacted, if you ask me.” 

“The hospital only released you because Hughes swore you’d rest.”

“I’m fine.”

“Brother, you died.”

“It was for what, like, a minute?” Ed touched a hand to his own chest, feeling the gauze taped over his healing wound. “Dying only counts if you stay dead.”

They’d only been able to talk about what happened late at night, after all the lights were out. That was when they talked about it at all. Some things were too painful to say aloud.

“It was about you, you know,” Al said quietly.

“What?”

“My dream.” Al paused, and Ed heard him take a deep breath. “I was…in that room. Your blood was everywhere, and I was trapped and I couldn’t do anything to save you…”

Ed sighed. “It was just a nightmare. In time I promise they won’t happen so much.” 

“I had a plan, you know. Back there. Before.” Al cleared his throat, shifting under his blankets. “I had it worked out. When you died. I knew how I could bring you back. I knew the array. I could have done it. I would have done it.“

“We’re alive now and that’s all that matters. It’s all that ever mattered.” Ed shook his head in the dark, even though Al couldn’t see. “And if it makes you feel any better, if you had used your plan and brought me back, I would have had a plan of my own. And it would have sucked. But I would have done it.”

“But we didn’t have to” Al said quietly. “Because of Dad.” 

“Trading himself for you was the only good thing he ever did,” Ed said. “Dragging that piece of shit Envy along with him.” Ed held up his automail arm. “I suppose I should be grateful I got back as much of myself as I did. Guess even the Gate knew he wasn’t worth a whole person.”

“Don’t say things like that.” Al reached out, feeling for Ed’s metal hand. “It may have been Dad’s soul that got my body back, but the only reason I’m still here is you. If Envy hadn’t been taken into the Gate…if you hadn’t come back…I don’t think I’d be alive now.”

Ed opened his mouth to respond, but his thoughts were disturbed by an incredibly loud stomach growl emanating from Al.

Al groaned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“You’re hungry.” Ed tried not to laugh, but it came out as a snort.

“Yeah.”

“I know the feeling. Let me go get you something.”

“No, I don’t want to be a bother. I’ll just go back to sleep.”

“Like hell you will. I’m up now, so what difference does it make?” Ed rose to his feet, patting Al’s arm. “I’ll be back. Toast and tea?”

Al pulled the blankets under his chin. “Thank you.”

The grandfather clock in the hallway said half past two, and Ed sighed as he crept stiffly down the stairs, trying to keep from stumbling over the hem of the enormous terrycloth robe Gracia had given him. Hughes’ house was spacious and comfortable, but he still felt like an intruder, as if the police would be waiting in the foyer with a warrant for trespassing. He was careful to avoid the scattered toys on the floor in the living room; he wasn’t in any shape for a fall. Ed stepped quietly into the kitchen, turning on the light as he entered, and was surprised to see someone staring back at him.

“Ed, what are you doing?”

Hughes held a cup of coffee, looking positively ridiculous. His hair appeared to have exploded sometime during the night, and his blue pajamas were covered with tiny yellow stars. Ed realized after a moment that he was staring. “I—“

“You’re not supposed to be up!” 

Ed held onto the door frame for support. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But Al needs something to eat, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“First off, you’re not a bother, and second, sit down. You look a little pale.” He pulled out a kitchen chair, pointing towards the seat cushion. 

“I’m fine.” Ed walked by him, heading towards the fridge, and suddenly he felt himself tip forward, his good knee buckling.

“Ed!” Hughes caught him before he fell, holding him upright. “Seriously. Sit down. If you pass out I’ll have to call an ambulance, and it’ll be a whole thing.”

Ed did as instructed, embarrassed. Just the effort of getting down the stairs had him winded, and his pulse thudded in his temples hard enough to make him dizzy. “I’m okay,” he said, pausing to catch his breath. “I just lost my balance.”

“Look, I’m not always big on doctor’s orders, but you’ve got to go easy on yourself.” Hughes took a breath, dropping a hand lightly on Ed’s shoulder. “You’ve been through hell, and the faster you push yourself, the longer it’s going to take to heal. Take it from someone who knows.”

Ed sighed. “I know.” He slumped down in the chair, resting his head on the back. “I hate being useless like this. I’m no good to Al as a damned invalid.”

“Are you kidding? You’re his brother. He doesn’t need you to do anything except be there for him.”

Closing his eyes, he couldn’t stop the image of his first glimpse of Al from appearing. God, it was like something out of a newsreel or a horror film…he looked two breaths away from death. His skin was like paper; his hair like straw. Skeletal didn’t even begin to describe. 

“Do you think,” Ed said softly, “he’s really going to be okay?”

Hughes’ gaze never wavered as he spoke. “I have no doubt.”

“I wake up in the middle of the night to make sure he’s still breathing.” Ed shook his head. “I know he looks a little better than he did, but God, Hughes…I look at him and it hurts.” 

“It’s hard to believe now, but there will be a time, and I don’t think it’ll be very long in coming, when he’s going to be kicking the crap out of you like he always did.” Hughes smiled slightly, sipping his coffee. “You Elrics are made of tenacious stuff.”

“I don’t know what I expected,” Ed said, his exhaustion giving voice to his private thoughts. “The last time I saw Al, we were kids. I didn’t think he’d come back a kid, but I didn’t think he’d come back as…what he is. I mean, he’s nearly grown. It’s just…I didn’t mean for him to miss his entire childhood. He spent the whole thing in that fucking Gate, and how horrifying is that?” 

Hughes glanced at him over the rims of his glasses. “And you think you had a childhood outside the Gate?”

“Point taken.” Ed exhaled. “I’m just saying that my idea of Al is not…the frail body in that bed. It’s weird, and I feel stupid for saying it, but I miss him, even though he’s right here.” 

“I don’t have a brother,” Hughes said, taking off his glasses and polishing them on the hem of his pajamas, “but I do have a best friend, and all I can say is that I understand. None of us are really the same people we were before all this started, myself included.”

“How is Mustang?” He didn’t really want to think about him, to say his name, but the question was out of his mouth before he really thought it through.

Hughes rolled his eyes. “What do you think I’m doing up so late? He’s fine. Healing. Going on about facial scars and do I think he’ll have one and whether or not they’re good for his image. This from a man who could have been blinded. Honestly. He’s living at the office again so he’s forgotten all sense of space and time.”

Ed sighed. “Good to know that even when the world’s gone mad that some things stay the same.” 

“He asked about you both.”

“Very magnanimous of him.” It wasn’t surprising, really; everyone loved Al.

“He mentioned wanting to visit, but I told him to wait. It’s still early, and the doctors said Al shouldn’t have visitors yet.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t really want to see the Colonel, at least not while he was still stitched and bandaged. Mustang wasn’t the sort of person you wanted to see when you were at your worst. Ed lifted his head, and upon finding it to be heavier than expected, he put it down again. “Would you mind putting on the kettle? I promised Al tea and toast.”

“Not at all.” Hughes rose from the table and walked to the fridge, rooting around with his usual gusto. “There’s leftover turkey from dinner, but we’ve got eggs, bacon…there’s a side of ham in here somewhere too…”

“It’s okay. Just the toast and tea should do it.” 

Hughes filled the kettle and set it to boil. “You want anything?”

“No, thanks.” Ed frowned. “It’s so weird not to be hungry all the time. I mean, I get hungry, but this was constant. Insatiable. I’d wake up starving and go to bed starving, even when I was eating well.”

“This is some kind of alchemy stuff that I’m not going to get, right?” Hughes pulled out a loaf from the breadbox, cutting thick slices. “He was taking energy from you, or something like that?”

“Yeah. Something like that. I kept his body going.” Ed pressed his flesh hand over his eyes. “If I had died, well, his physical body wouldn’t have survived long after.”

“What about his soul?” Hughes looked at him, eyes narrowed. “Would he have been…”

“Trapped.” 

“No offense, Ed, but alchemy kind of scares the shit out of me.” Hughes pulled the bread out of the toaster, arranging the toast on a plate and smearing a generous amount of butter and strawberry jam across each one. 

Ed scoffed. “Yeah, me too.”

The kettle sang, and Hughes snatched it from the heat before it woke anyone else in the house. “Does he take cream and sugar?”

Ed opened his mouth to speak, and then frowned. “I don’t remember. We didn’t drink a lot of tea as kids.” He finally nodded. “Let’s say yes. Any extra calories will help.”

After making up a tray, Hughes walked over to Ed, offering him an arm. “I’ll help you up the stairs. Just take it slow, okay?”

They made their way back to Ed’s room with halting, careful steps. When they reached the door, Hughes gave him the tray, a half smile on his lips. “Get some sleep, kid.” 

“Hughes, I…” Ed stopped, exhaling. “Thanks.”

Hughes shook his head. “No thanks needed. You’re family, as far as I’m concerned, and always will be. Until you and Al find a place to call home, consider ours yours.”

Ed’s throat constricted, and he managed to mumble goodnight before he closed the bedroom door behind him. 

The small lamp was on at Al’s bedside, casting a warm circle of light over his pale skin. Ed tried to step quietly, but Al stirred, blinking as he woke. “Brother. You’ve been gone forever. Did you go and pick the tea yourself?”

Ed’s lips quirked in a smile. “You’re not supposed to annoy the waitstaff. You never know what they’ll do to your food.” He handed the tray over to Al, trying not to notice how enormous Hughes’ flannel pajamas were on Al’s frame.

“This smells amazing.” Al started in on the toast, laughing to himself as a drop of butter ran down his chin, catching it with a finger. “It’s so good.” He took several huge bites, barely breathing between them, and then caught Ed staring at him. “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Did you want some?”

Ed handed him a handkerchief with a grin. “No thanks. It’s all yours.”


End file.
